Ronia, the ex demon's daughter
by praemonitus praemunitus
Summary: This is the continuation of the story "Redemption in blood", and it picks up the story a few months after the "Redemption". The little girl the one who was destined to become the Great Sorceress has now been born, and Cole's guardianship has begun.
1. Chapter 1

A/N The title of the story is a play on Astrid Lindgren's "Ronia, the robber's daughter". The meaning will be explained in the later chapters.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Charmed characters :)

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**Chapter 1**

A loud demanding cry came from a small makeshift crib that stood in the middle of an otherwise barren room, piercing the dark stillness of the night and rousing a man who was sleeping on a pile of rags on the floor next to it. The man stirred, his eyes closed, unwilling as yet to abandon the relative comfort of sleep. But the cry turned plaintive, shredding the last vestiges of sleep, and the man rubbed his eyes fiercely and finally pushed himself up with a groan.

"Hungry again?" he queried in a voice still husky from sleep, as he leaned over the crib. The baby stopped her wailing as soon as his tired face came into view. She squirmed restlessly, looking up at him with an expectant smile. "You little rascal," the man shook his head, smiling despite himself, as he took the infant up into his arms. "This is what you wanted, wasn't it?" A satisfied gurgle was his response, as the baby settled herself comfortably against his broad shoulder. "Great," he muttered, "just great. I hate to break it to you, sweet pea, but even ex-demons need to sleep some time. You don't want me to crash while I'm giving you your bottle, now, do you?" The baby gurgled again, squirming in delight. "Right. I thought so." And with a sigh of resignation, he lifted his eyes skyward and called as loud as he could without scaring the baby: "Leo! Leo! Get your ass over here, dammit!"

"Ya just had to take your sweet time, didn't you?" he quipped, as a few moments later a soft chime announced the arrival of the Whitelighter.

"What's going on here, Cole?" Leo asked, ignoring the jab, as he looked around the squalid little one-room apartment, his nose wrinkled in disgust. "No offense, but you really should fire your interior designer."

"Good one, Wyatt," the ex-demon scowled. "I'd applaud, really, but my hands are kind of full at the moment."

The Whitelighter shifted uncomfortably under the angry stare. "Look, Cole," he began in a conciliatory tone, "I'm just saying … you could have at least conjured up some furniture … made the place a bit homier or something…"

"_You have GOT to be kidding me!"_ If he hadn't been so tired, Cole would have been tempted to find out whether having a Whitelighter smeared across the wall would be a good first step toward improving his interior design. "Listen," he tried his best to keep irritation out of his voice, "this kid has been waking me up almost every hour at night for the past two weeks. I can barely find the energy to keep my eyes open, let alone worry about the décor." He glanced at the kid in question, who at the moment was busy trying to fit her whole fist into her tiny mouth, and shook his head tiredly.

"She's, what, 6 months now?" Leo chimed in, watching the girl curiously. "She's probably teething. Look at how she's chewing on those fingers."

"That's great information, Doctor Wyatt," Cole quipped, annoyance creeping back into his voice, "but it's not really helping me much in my current situation now, does it?" He took a deep breath, pushing his irritation deeper below the surface, and spoke again in a voice thick with exhaustion. "Look, Leo, I'm dog-tired and I am really worried that I won't be able to protect her whenever the next attack comes… not unless I get at least some sleep."

The Whitelighter regarded him quietly for a moment, a hint of alarm reflecting in his blue eyes. "What do you want me to do?"

"What any good godfather would do, of course," the ex-demon smiled a tired but mischievous smile, as he handed the baby to the flabbergasted former Elder. "Enjoy." And without further ado he dropped right back onto his pile of rags and was asleep within seconds.

Leo Wyatt was about to object that he was, after all, a Whitelighter, and he had other charges that depended on him, but, looking at the little bundle of energy that squirmed in his arms impatiently, trying to pull a button off his shirt, he thought better of it. "Hey there, kiddo," he whispered softly. "I hear you've been keeping your … dad up at night." He stumbled over the word _dad_, glancing uncomfortably at the sleeping ex-demon. Over the past four months Cole was forced to expand his role of a simple guardian to become both this child's mother and father. Leo frowned, thinking back to the awful night that created this strange family unit consisting of an ex-demon and the future Great Sorceress.

_4 months earlier_

"_Someone is trying to kill the Great Sorceress. If all goes as planned, she will be dead tomorrow."_

_The bluntness of the statement made him cringe. "Why are you telling this to me? If you know something, why not interfere so it doesn't happen?"he asked, watching his companion wearily._

_The latter frowned, fixing him with a heavy stare. "My sisters and I do not interfere unless in extraordinary circumstances, you know that."_

"_Doesn't a threat on the Sorceress' life constitute an extraordinary circumstance?" he asked, incredulous._

"_We believe her Guardian can protect her. However," she raised her hand, anticipating his next question, "he will likely not be there when the attack happens. They will make sure of that."_

"_They?"_

"_The forces that are planning to destroy her, of course," she deadpanned._

"_Of course." He rubbed his temples wearily, wondering briefly if Whitelighters were supposed to get headaches._

_She tilted her head, the dark blue eyes watching him intently. "You seem uncertain, Leo Wyatt," she stated finally, waiting for him to respond._

_He shrugged helplessly. "I just don't unders—"_

"_Your role? That's easy. You will need to make sure that he is there in time to save the Great Sorceress." She frowned and added quietly. "It's knowing when that time will come is where you might have a problem."_

_Leo shook his head. "No, that… I get that. It's… why me? Why not one of the elders? They might actually have the power to stop this before—" The look in her eyes stopped him cold._

"_A word of advice, Leo Wyatt," she said in a voice tight with anger and contempt, "if you wish to see that little girl survive to become the Great Sorceress, you would do best not to put too much trust in the elders. There are some among them who would rather not see her live up to her potential, if you know what I mean." With that she was gone._

_For what it was worth, Moira Lachesis was right about one thing – Cole wasn't there when the attack happened. The plan was perfect: a difficult client with a complex case that was sure to keep him at his new job in the legal aid office well after hours, giving the others plenty of time to wipe out Hannah and her family. But the Moira was wrong to count on Leo Wyatt to mend the situation, for at the very moment that the Whitelighter was supposed to alert the guardian of his charge, he found himself inexplicably out of reach and incommunicado. And so it was that Moira Lachesis reluctantly intervened yet again in the life of the ex-demon in order to safeguard the future of good magic and, by extension, of mankind. She was careful, though, not to let her interference be apparent to anyone, even the one it was directed at, for she knew that the consequences of such knowledge would be dire. So there was no apparition, no whispered voices. Just a sudden overwhelming feeling of alarm, so nauseatingly strong that it felt like a sharp punch in the gut, enough to make Cole nearly double over at the unexpected onslaught._

_Seconds later Cole was already inside the small two-bedroom home that he shared with Hannah and her family, and the scene that greeted him left him frozen with shock and despair. They were dead. The family that he had come to love like his own over the past couple of months was gone, their charred bodies lying awkwardly amidst the tangled rubble that was their living room. They probably tried to escape and probably called for him to help them. And he was stuck in the office listening to some ramblings of a sham client, likely a demon himself. He failed them. An anguished moan escaped his lips, as he dropped to his knees amidst the rubble. Not again… not again… Gods, what has he done?!_

_And suddenly he heard it – a small pitiful cry coming from one of the upstairs bedrooms. It broke through the misery surrounding him, making him jump as if scolded. The baby! She was alive! Without a second thought he rushed to the sound. _

_The demon sent to kill her was standing over the crib, frustration written all over his face. The energy bolt that he used to kill the rest of Hannah's family could not seem to penetrate the tiny blue screen surrounding the crib. The forcefield. Cole breathed a sigh of relief. God was he glad he trusted his gut and put it up as a precaution before he left for work that day. Though it was getting weaker from the constant stream of energy directed at it, and though the baby was obviously becoming upset over the endless cascade of sparkles above her head, it was still holding, and the girl was still alive. And at the moment it was all that mattered. With an angry shout Cole dispatched the demon, leaving nothing but a scorched spot on the wall next to the crib._

_In the ensuing stillness, the baby's cries became louder and more demanding. Pushing all other thoughts aside, Cole crossed the room in a few quick steps and, having removed the damaged forcefield, reached down into the crib, scooping the little girl up into his arms. "Don't worry, Little One," he cooed, smiling down at the baby, "Uncle Cole is here. I won't let anything happen to you. Ever. I promise."_

_The crying subsided, as if she had understood his words, and the future Great Sorceress settled quietly in his arms, falling almost instantly into a comfortable sleep._

_Cole watched the little girl, who had suddenly become more dependent on him than he could ever imagine, and he thought desperately about the now very different future that was in store for her – a future with only a washed-out ex-demon for a family; and of the girl's own family lying dead – murdered – downstairs; and gradually he felt his despair give way to anger: raw, violent anger directed at the beings that he felt in his gut were responsible for this mess._

_A soft chime interrupted his thoughts, and he whirled around, glaring at the newcomer. "You!" he hissed with so much fury, that the newly-arrived Whitelighter shrank back almost instinctively. "Where the hell were you, when they were trying to kill your charge?" Cole began advancing menacingly at the flustered Whitelighter, one hand wrapped protectively around the baby, the other forming a fireball. "Why didn't you help them? Why didn't you come get me, if you were too scared to do something yourself?"_

_Leo felt his back bump against the wall, and he bit out hurriedly, looking into the unforgiving blue eyes of the ex-demon: "I didn't hear them, Cole. I swear to you, I didn't hear them. I would have been here if I did. And it wasn't just them – I couldn't hear any of my charges. It was like I was in some kind of a dead zone. I—"_

"_They are gone, Leo," Cole cut in, all his anger gone. "They are all gone…. She's got no one left." _

_There was so much pain in his voice that the Whitelighter stepped forward, cautiously placing his hand on the other man's shoulder. "She still has you, Cole," he said softly, looking into the ex-demon's eyes to make sure his meaning got through. "She has __**you**__!"_

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TBC

So, tell me what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry for the delay in updates. Hit a bit of a writing block, but here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy it.

As always, thanks for reading and reviewing :)

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**Chapter 2**

There are many a thing that newfangled parents can admit to having bungled in the early months of their babies' lives. Some have forgotten to put a diaper on their little angel's bottom before putting them to bed and were awakened in the middle of the night by wailing of an extremely upset baby covered in pee and poop from head to toe. Others have driven all the way to the daycare center before realizing that they had left their little one in the middle of their living room, strapped into their baby carrier.

Cole's biggest mess (in both figurative and literal terms) came when Ronia was about 8 months old. Tired after yet another all-nighter, Cole crashed out during the baby's daytime nap and forgot to set up the forcefield around her crib. He was jolted awake a few minutes later by a sudden sense of urgency and foreboding, only to find a strange wiry demon reaching over the crib's side rail. Without thinking, Cole threw a fireball in the direction of the intruder, and the demon exploded, covering half the room, the crib and, most importantly, the baby in green sticky goo. The future Great Sorceress began to wail loudly in protest, and her now fully awake Guardian swore under his breath and rushed over to embark on the arduous task of cleaning the demon slime off of his charge.

Since that time the attacks have only increased in frequency, and Cole found himself turning more and more often to Leo for help in babysitting his precious protégée, letting him watch over her while he slept. The Whitelighter was reluctant to play babysitter at first, but, after spending a few hours with the little two-toothed bundle of energy and giggles, Leo realized that he couldn't stay away. He found himself waiting impatiently for Cole's distress call and some days, when that call wouldn't come, he ended up coming anyway. And if that constant presence of his former adversary irritated the ex demon, he didn't show it, mainly because most of the time he was too tired to care.

But then, suddenly, the attacks stopped altogether. The cessation was so abrupt in fact that at first Cole hadn't even realized that it had happened. And it was only after Leo showed up one morning with a bottle of champagne in one hand and a box wrapped in pink gift paper and spent over ten minutes trying to wake him up that Cole became aware that he had just had an entire night of uninterrupted sleep. Blinking sleepily, he stared at the Whitelighter in confusion until reality set in. Then he jumped off the bed, gripped by a sudden feeling of panic, and rushed over to the crib.

"She's fine," he heard behind him, and he smiled in relief, as he realized that it was, in fact, true. "She's sleeping peacefully, as you can see."

The Guardian turned, facing his former brother-in-law. "Did you spend the night here?" he queried, still puzzled over the sudden tranquility in their normally chaotic lives.

Leo shook his head. "I just came by to congratulate you," he said, smiling. And seeing the unspoken question in the other man's eyes, he clarified, "A deal has been reached between the Underworld and the Upperworld: given that you have managed to keep the Sorceress alive through her first birthday, the Underworld agreed to stop any further attacks until she starts exhibiting her powers."

The blue eyes narrowed suspiciously, searching the Whitelighter's face for any hint of a joke. There wasn't any. "So we'll be left alone?" The disbelief was apparent in his voice.

"Until her powers start coming in, yes." Leo was positively beaming with excitement. "Just think about it -- now you, guys, will finally catch a break, and you'll be able to concentrate on teaching her about magic, and…"

"What's the catch?" The abrupt question caught Leo off guard and left him blinking in indecision. "Come on, Leo," Cole prompted, impatient, "we both know there's always a catch when it comes to their _**deals**_. So what is it this time?"

The Whitelighter's smile faded a bit. "There's… a bit of bad news…" He stopped short, hesitating.

"Out with it, Leo!" the ex-demon called out impatiently, his voice sounding sharper than he had intended. The baby woke up and started crying, upset over the sudden interruption of her sleep. Instantly he was at her side, lifting her up into his arms and bouncing her gently until she had calmed down. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart," he whispered, kissing the little tear-streaked button nose, "I didn't mean to wake you."

"We lost Menelaus," Leo said quietly, watching the pair with a hint of wistful longing in his green eyes.

Cole turned his attention back to him, as the Whitelighter explained: "There was a lot of resentment toward him after the whole thing with the Moirae. The others were sort of pushing for him to resign. So he made this deal – he would leave the Upperworld, and in exchange the other Elders would enter into an agreement with the Underworld about you two."

The ex-demon nodded pensively. "Meaning, we lost our only support in the Upperworld."

Leo gave a vague shrug. "Well… maybe not. Menelaus told me that Elder Arturo might be somewhat of an ally."

"Somewhat?"

"Well," he shrugged again, "it's better than nothing."

"Right," the Guardian drawled, setting the child slowly down on the floor. Then, suddenly remembering something, he looked curiously at the Whitelighter. "Is that a pink box you're carrying?"

"Right, of course," Leo remembered suddenly, putting the box on the floor in front of Ronia. "I completely forgot. Happy Birthday, Sweetie. Here's a present from Uncle Leo."

"Oh, God," Cole groaned loudly, slapping himself on the forehead. "I can't believe I missed her birthday."

The future Great Sorceress touched the box hesitantly, as if waiting for permission to start ripping the paper to shreds. "Go ahead, open it," Leo encouraged, helping her make the first tear, and the girl went to work, diligently shredding piece after pink piece, and squealing with delight.

Straightening back up, Leo smiled at the flustered Guardian. "Don't worry, Cole. You'll have plenty of opportunity to make up for this one." And in an uncharacteristically brotherly fashion he clapped his former adversary on the shoulder and added, "I haven't told you this before, but… you really are great with her…. You make a great dad."

With that he was gone, leaving a dumbfounded ex-demon in his wake.

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No action in this one, but there will be plenty ahead. Please hit that button and review. Pretty please :-)


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi everyone. Been on vacation with no Internet access whatsoever -- so, no chance to update until now. Hopefully, it was worth the wait :-) There's some more father-daughter interaction in this chapter. **

**Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing, as always. Very much appreciate those :)

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Chapter 3.

His cell phone came to life, erupting into a loud electronic version of "Ride of the Valkyries", and Cole reached for it absently, his eyes still glued to a legal brief he was working on.

"Turner."

"Hello, Mr. Turner," a pleasant female voice greeted him from the other end, "this is Ms. Cassle, Ronia's teacher…."

His brief forgotten, Cole's attention was now focused solely on the woman's voice.

"Mr. Turner, could you come pick Ronia up a little earlier today? Perhaps during the children's lunch period?"

Cole felt his stomach lurch in fear. "Did something happen? Is she okay?" _If one of those bastard demons broke the deal and tried to get to her at school…_

"She just got into a fight with some students. Some scrapes and bruises, but, otherwise, she's fine, don't worry," the teacher hurried to reassure him, upon hearing the panic in his voice. "But I would like to talk to you about this incident."

"Of course," Cole nodded, already heading out of his office. "I'll be right there."

***

Cole had to admit that, even after hearing Ms. Cassle's assurances that Ronia was fine, he was still nervous as he approached the school building. But as he got a good look at his first-grader – her blouse torn and hanging out from her skirt, her hair disheveled, her lower lip split and her left eye sporting a nice purple shiner – he burst into laughter both in admiration and relief.

"Ronia, the robber's daughter, you certainly do your name justice," he noted, as she rushed over into his waiting arms. "So would you mind telling me what this was all about?" he asked, lifting her up to get a closer look at her roughed up face.

She was about to respond, when a woman's voice interrupted them. "Mr. Turner?"

He turned, coming face to face with a petite older woman with kind brown eyes.

"Thank you for coming so quickly," she smiled at the pair. "Ronia, dear, would you mind waiting in the hallway a few minutes, while I talk to your dad?"

"Sure, Ms. Cassle," the girl nodded, heading for the door.

Eileen Cassle watched her go, mulling something over in her head. She has been a teacher for over thirty years; she had seen all kinds of families, all kinds of kids. Yet she knew with a kind of certainty that there was something special about this particular family. And Mr. Turner himself – she felt a powerful force behind those intense blue eyes, a dangerous force, to be sure. And that feeling made the old teacher somewhat hesitant to approach the topic of this conversation.

"Ms. Cassle," Cole's voice broke into her musings, "would you mind telling me what happened?"

The teacher smiled awkwardly. "Mr. Turner," she began cautiously, "forgive me if I seem like I'm sticking my nose into your personal life, but would you mind telling me how Ronia's mother died?"

She saw him tense visibly, the blue eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Why?" he asked coolly.

"Today we learned words for family members in Spanish," Ms. Cassle continued by way of explanation. "We also talked about our own families to practice the words as they relate to us – you know, 'sister,' 'brother,' 'mother,' 'father,' and so on and so forth."

"Ronia doesn't have anyone but me," Cole said knowingly, starting to guess where this conversation was going.

"That's what she said," the teacher confirmed. "However, she also said that her mother and her first father were killed by bad demons, and that a good demon saved her and became her second father." She was watching his face carefully for any reaction, but Ronia's father didn't even bat an eye.

"That's not surprising," he said evenly. "Ronia's biological parents were killed in a car accident when she was only a couple of months old." He shrugged apologetically, "When she was a little older, I told her that some bad people were not following the traffic rules, and because of that her parents were dead."

Ms. Cassle frowned, uncertain. "But 'demons'? Where did she get that idea from?"

Another shrug. "Well, she likes stories about magic, wizards, witches and the like," Cole replied, unperturbed. "And you know what wild imagination kids have…"

"So the part about you saving her from 'the bad demons'…?"

"Is as true as me being 'the good demon'," Cole grinned, enjoying the irony of his words. "I'm just a close family friend who adopted her because there was no one else left."

Ms. Cassle nodded, visibly relieved. "I thought as much." She paused and added, "Perhaps you should talk to your daughter about this, too. She seems to really believe that story, and the other kids…," she trailed off, letting Cole figure out the rest.

"They made fun of her, didn't they?"

The teacher pursed her lips, nodding sadly.

"How many?"

The question caught her off guard. "Excuse me?"

"How many kids was she fighting with?"

Ms. Cassle faltered. "Four," she said finally, fully expecting him to get upset at her for not preventing such an unequal fight, "three boys and another girl."

Mr. Turner's reaction, however, completely dumbfounded the veteran teacher. His face broke into a bright smile of satisfaction and approval, and he nodded happily: "That's my girl!"

***

Later that evening, after Uncle Leo had healed all of her injuries, and she was watching her father tuck her in bed, Ronia propped herself up on her elbow and asked, "Daddy, are you mad at me for getting into a fight?"

"Of course not, Sweetheart," Cole assured her, kissing the top of her head. "But you are not supposed to talk to regular people about magic, you know that, right?"

She nodded. "I know. I'm sorry."

"That's okay. Just be more careful next time."

"I will, I promise." "Daddy," she called again, as he was getting ready to leave her room.

"Yes?"

"Was my real dad a thief?"

Cole plopped back down onto her bed, taken aback by the question. "Of course not, honey. Why would you ask that?"

She frowned. "Back in school you said that I was a robber's daughter, and I—" she cut herself short, for at that moment her father roared with laughter. She sat up, confused, watching him with an ever deepening frown.

"I'm sorry, baby," he said, finally. "I should have told you about this earlier."

"Told me what?"

"Your name – 'Ronia' – your mom was the one who picked it out. She named you after one of her favorite characters from a book called Ronia, the Robber's Daughter," Cole explained. "That girl – Ronia – was very brave and wasn't afraid to stand up for herself or for those she really cared about," he paused, looking at his wide-eyed charge, "kind of like you."

Ronia sat quietly for a few minutes, considering this new information. "Was she brave too, my mom?" she asked finally.

Cole nodded earnestly. "She was, very brave. And so was your dad and your grandma. You come from a very brave family, my little girl."

Ronia bit her lower lip, indecision written across her face. "But what if she named me wrong?"

"What do you mean?" now it was the ex-demon's turn to frown in bewilderment.

The little girl shrugged, dropping her eyes. "What if I ended up not being brave at all?" she asked quietly.

Cole looked tenderly at her perturbed face. Gently he reached out and lifted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. "There was never any chance of that, honey," he said with conviction. "She was certain that you would be a brave little girl, even before she knew what you were destined for."

"But how could she know that?" she insisted.

"Mothers just know these things."

"How?"

"In here," Cole reached out again, pressing his hand against Ronia's heart. "They know it in here," he repeated, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

The future Great Sorceress nodded solemnly, seemingly satisfied with his response. But as he moved to get up, she stopped him once again:

"Daddy, can you read me that book… about Ronia?"

"Very well," the ex-demon acquiesced, "but you have to promise me that you will try to go to sleep. Deal?" And upon receiving a nod of affirmation, Cole waved his hand in the air, making a small paperback novel appear on his lap. "Alright then," he began, opening the book to the first page, _"On the night that Ronia was born a thunderstorm was raging over the mountains…"

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**TBC**

**Please hit that review button :-)  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Several more peaceful, quiet years have gone by where, apart from the daily magic and fighting lessons, the Turners lived like any other average American family. Nothing interrupted the blissful near-normalcy of their lives, but the knowledge that this calm was not going to last weighed heavily on Cole's mind, even though he tried to chase those thoughts away. But, as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end, and so it was that their perfect little world changed abruptly when Ronia turned 12.

That day she returned home from school more excited than usual.

"Dad," she screamed, having barely crossed the threshold, "you'll never believe what happened at school today!"

"Really?" Cole grinned, coming out of his home office. "And what did you do this time?"

"Nothing," she hurried to assure him, but then faltered, "well, almost…. At any rate, it wasn't my fault," she contended, shaking her head for emphasis.

"All right, Miss Innocence," Cole's grin became wider, as he moved toward the couch. "Sounds like I'd better sit down for this one."

Ronia matched his smile with one of her own. "Anyway," she continued, plopping down on the floor in front of him and crossing her legs, "you know, we have this new teacher, Ms. Beale, right?" Without waiting for him to respond, she went on, "Anyway, she's kind of a weirdo, and her fashion sense is … ewh," she rolled her eyes, eliciting a chuckle from her father.

"Get to the point, dear."

"Right. Anyway, I think she hates us. She always gives us the worst attitude and—"

"I'm sure the feeling is mutual," Cole interrupted with a smirk.

"Naturally," the teenager shrugged, as if that was something self-evident. "But, get this, today she got mad at some of the boys who were acting all crazy during her lesson, so she decided to punish the whole class – give everyone a failing grade on the test we wrote last week. So we got upset of course."

"Of course," the ex-demon was doing his best to keep a straight face, while he waited to see where this was going.

"So I told her that she was being unfair to the rest of us who were behaving properly," she faltered, seeing his skeptical look, and amended, "well, relatively, and—"

"Were those the exact words you used?" her father interrupted again, and Ronia blushed slightly – he knew her too well.

"I called her a bitch," she said shyly.

"And how did she react to that?" the question was filled with poorly hidden sarcasm.

"She got even madder than before. She told me that I'd be lucky to get a "D" on my final; that for someone like me a "D" is nothing short of a gift – crap like that."

"So?" Cole urged her to continue.

"So then the craziest thing happened," Ronia was barely able to contain her excitement. "While she was yelling at me, I kept looking at the pen she was holding, so I wouldn't have to look at her face. And all of a sudden that pen just exploded right in her hands. Can you imagine? She was so freaked out, she actually ran right out of the room. She—" The teen cut herself short, noticing the sudden pallor in her father's face. "What's wrong?" she asked, alarmed by this abrupt change in his demeanor.

Instead of replying, Cole jumped up off the couch and began pacing around the room, mumbling something unintelligible.

"Dad?" Ronia's voice jerked him back to reality.

He spun on his heels to face her. "You were angry when you were looking at that pen." It wasn't a question, yet Ronia found herself nodding anyway, troubled by her father's concern. Cole bit his lip, "It's started then," he murmured.

"Dad," Ronia tried again, "you're really starting to freak me out here. What started? What are you talking about?"

"Your powers."

"My p— NO WAAAAAAAAAY! That's awesome!" the teenager jumped up excitedly, expressing her delight with such loud squealing that her father winced, bringing his hands up to cover his ears.

"Yes, awesome" he muttered, when she calmed down sufficiently to be able to process what he was saying. "Unfortunately, it also means that now it's once again open season on Ronia."

"Oh, right," she drawled, suddenly deflated.

"And, since you don't have good control of your powers yet, you are now as vulnerable as you were when you were a baby," Cole added darkly. "We'll need to step up your training to get you comfortable with your powers. And until that happens, you are not to leave my sight for even a moment. That means – no school, no swimming practice, no hanging out with your friends. You're gonna need to stay here with me 24/7 until I can be sure that you'll be able to defend yourself on your own. Do you understand?"

The girl frowned, running a hand through her unruly curls. "I thought getting my powers would be a good thing," she whispered, her lower lip trembling.

She looked so lost, so vulnerable, that Cole's heart ached for her, and, cursing his bluntness, he dropped to his knees in front of her, pulling his daughter into a tight hug.

"It **is** a good thing, honey," he quickly assured her. "It means you're on your way to becoming the greatest magical being on the side of Good over at least the last thousand years."

"Right," the teen spit out bitterly, "unless I get killed in the next five minutes."

"Hey!" Cole snapped, giving the girl a rough shake. "That is **not** going to happen, you hear me? **I** will not let that happen. Do you understand?" He shook her again, a little gentler this time, and Ronia nodded slowly, her eyes cast down. "That's better." He stood up, stretching his legs. "We'll speed up your training. Now that we have something to work with, things will progress more quickly. But first we'll need to move."

Ronia looked up for the first time, her brow knit in confusion. "Move? Where?"

"Anywhere but here, sweetheart," Cole said, giving her a tense smile. "When you used your powers it likely gave a pretty high energy surge, and the bounty hunters are probably on their way here as we speak. So we need to—" He stopped short, sensing a shift in the air behind him, and turned just in time to see a dark shape of a demon materialize behind the sofa and to hear a soft whoosh of an athame as it sliced its way toward him.

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TBC

Please review :-)


	5. Chapter 5

**Here's the next installment. A bit more action here. Hope you enjoy it.**

**A/N The usual disclaimer.**

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**Chapter 5**

The blade plunged into his right shoulder, and Cole staggered backward from the force of the impact. Angrily he flung a fireball at the intruder and turned his attention to his wound, not bothering to watch the demon go up in flames. Biting back a scream, he pulled out the knife in front of his terrified daughter, puzzled both by the intensity of pain and the fact that the wound refused to close. _Something wasn't right._ He glared at the offending object in his hand and then his glare turned into a frown as he noticed a trace of dark green liquid on the blade of the athame. "What the –?" he didn't get a chance to finish. A sudden wave of nausea washed over him, and he had to grab onto the sofa arm to keep his balance, as he rode it out.

"Dad?" Ronia's frightened voice broke through the fog surrounding his mind, and he pried his eyes open, meeting her concerned stare.

"What's wrong? Why aren't you healing?" she touched the wound gingerly, pulling her hand away almost immediately as she saw him wince in pain.

Cole had a vague idea, but felt it was too early to alarm the girl. "'S okay, I'm okay," he managed hoarsely, but the teenager was not convinced.

"Uncle Leo!" she cried, raising her eyes to the ceiling. "Uncle Leo!!!"

"Sorry to disappoint you, but your Whitelighter is otherwise engaged at the moment," came a deep voice from the other end of the room.

"Zotar," Cole hissed, pushing Ronia behind him, as he formed a fireball in his hand…. Or, rather, he tried to. Nothing happened, and his suspicions were confirmed. A split second later a bolt of lightning slammed into his chest, and he felt himself flying across the room, Zotar's mocking laughter ringing in his ears even as his back slammed forcefully against the wall and the world dimmed around him.

With a cry of despair, Ronia rushed to help him, but, before she could reach him, a pair of strong armss grabbed her painfully from behind, and she felt herself being pulled up into the air. She shrieked, wriggling in the demon's arms and using her feet and elbows to land as many blows as she could. Finding himself under this unexpected onslaught, the demon released his grip, letting the girl drop back onto the floor.

"You little witch," he hissed, rubbing a sore spot on his face. "I was told to bring you in alive, but if you continue to piss me off, I don't think they'll mind you missing a few body parts here or there." To further underline his threat, he pulled out an athame and began advancing on the teenager who lay terrified before him. Reaching toward her, he grabbed her roughly by the front of her shirt, pulling her to her feet.

The knifepoint moved closer to her face, and Ronia closed her eyes in fear, as she felt the cold blade touch her skin. She froze, waiting for the blade to cut into her cheek, but nothing happened. Instead she heard an odd wheezing sound, and she found herself suddenly back on the floor, as the tight grip on her shirt disappeared. She opened her eyes to find the Zotar writhing in death throes at her feet and her father pulling the green-tainted athame from the demon's back. Seconds later the Zotar went up in flames, and Ronia moved back instinctively, her heart beating like a caged bird.

"We need to leave now," Cole said tiredly, hiding the weapon in the inside pocket of his coat before painfully pulling it on. His face ashen with effort, he looked intently at the girl, scanning her for any signs of injuries. "Are you alright?"

She nodded, rising to her feet.

"Then let's go."

"Just like that?" she whispered, confused, as she looked around their apartment.

Cole nodded gloomily. "I can't protect you right now," he admitted desperately, eliciting a concerned stare from his daughter. "And we can't stay here. It's not safe."

She nodded again, joining him by the door, as she waited for him to shimmer them out to safety. When instead of doing that, he walked out into the hallway and headed stiffly for the elevator, she ran after him, her confusion growing.

"Why aren't we shimmering?" she asked, as she watched him lean wearily against the elevator wall. "Is something wrong with your powers?" Her concern grew, when she remembered seeing the fresh bloodstain on his shirt before he covered it up with a coat. _His wound hasn't healed yet,_ she realized, and fear took hold of her once again.

"I don't have any powers," Cole whispered hoarsely, keeping his eyes closed. "That's why I'm taking you to someone who can protect you, while I figure out how to fix myself."

"Who?"

"Old friends," he replied enigmatically.

The elevator doors swooshed open, and Cole pushed himself off the wall and walked out before Ronia had a chance to ask her next question.

"Are we just going to walk there?" the girl inquired, catching up with him.

"Nope," the ex-demon shook his head, pointing to the bus stop ahead.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Ronia was incredulous. "Dad! This is insane! You're wounded. You can barely walk. Why don't you just teach me how to shimmer so we can get to those friends of yours?"

He shook his head again. "They can track powers, Roni. We need to blend into the crowd as much as possible right now. We can't handle another attack." He stumbled, and Ronia was at his side in an instant, wrapping her arms around his waist for support. He smiled tensely, touched by her concern. "It's alright, sweetheart. It's only a two hour drive. It'll be alright."

"Only," she scoffed. "Who are these people anyway? Where are we going?"

"The Charmed Ones," he replied unperturbed, enjoying the look of shock on her face. "Remember, I told you about them, right?" And without waiting for her to respond, he walked on, chuckling softly, leaving her gaping at his back.

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TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N **The usual disclaimer: I don't own them :-)

**

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Chapter 6**

Ronia trailed behind her father, as they walked through the streets of San Francisco, deep in thought. Hundreds of questions have been swirling around in her head, questions she could not ask on the bus without getting unwanted attention from fellow passengers. _Why did her father's powers disappear? What was that green stuff on the knife? Was it some kind of a poison? Was that why her father's wound continued to bleed? Why wasn't Uncle Leo answering their calls? And why were they going to ask for help the very people who have caused her father so much grief in the past? _She's been itching to ask those questions ever since they got off the bus about 10 minutes ago, but, seeing the way her father's face darkened upon reaching the city, she couldn't bring herself to question him just yet. So she settled for watching his stiff back, as they made their way toward a two-storey Victorian-style manor on Prescott Street.

She watched as he stumbled up the steps of the front porch and leaned against the wall, utterly exhausted. He looked so vulnerable at that moment that Ronia's felt a pang in her heart and, following a sudden impulse, she rushed to his side and hugged him tightly, her face pressing against the fabric of his pants.

"I'm alright, sweetheart," she heard him whisper, as he laid his hand gently on the top of her head. "I'm just gonna take a moment here to gather my strength and—"

"That's not what I'm worried about," Ronia interrupted him, glancing up into his tired pain-filled blue eyes. "Those women," she nodded in the direction of the door, "they've tried to kill you like a hundred times. What makes you think they won't try again, dad? And you can't defend yourself, and—"

"All valid points, my dear," Cole smiled bitterly. "However, I don't think they'll be so quick to try to vanquish me this time. Leo told me they felt pretty bad after the last time…." He paused, wincing as the memory of the last time he dealt with the Charmed Ones washed over him, unbidden. "Besides," he added, shaking off the unpleasant thoughts, "at the moment, we are out of options."

He sighed, reaching for the doorbell, and paused again, his finger hovering inches above the bell. "But just in case I'm wrong about them, stand behind me, would you, honey?" he threw over his shoulder, and Ronia complied, swallowing hard at the implication.

Three rings later the door opened to reveal a dark-haired teenage boy who stood in the doorway, staring curiously at the pair.

"Can I help you?"

"Is your mom home?" Cole asked, ignoring the teenager, as he tried to see further into the living room.

"Depends on who's asking," the teen bristled. "Who the hell are you?"

Cole allowed himself a small smile. "Well, you're definitely Piper's son. Wyatt, is it?"

"Chris," the boy bit out, curiosity replaced by suspicion. "You still haven't answered my –"

"It's alright, Chris," came a new voice, and the boy fell silent, waiting for his mother to join them by the door.

Ronia watched the woman with a mixture of apprehension and jealousy. She was always a bit jealous of those of her classmates who had mothers as well as fathers. Mothers seemed to her to be a special breed that she was completely unfamiliar with yet that always somehow attracted her. She even wished that her father would get married someday, so she could find out what it would be like to have someone she could call "mom." This woman was one of the Charmed Ones, yet she was also a mother. She was a witch who did terrible things to her father, yet her eyes were kind when she looked at the boy.

"It's alright," the woman repeated calmly, placing a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder. "Why don't you go in the kitchen and wait for me in there?"

"Are you sure?" the teenager threw another hostile glance at the ex-demon and looked questioningly at his mother. The latter nodded calmly, and he complied, but not before giving Cole a partying look, full of displeasure and distrust.

"Lovely kid," Cole commented, when the boy was out of earshot. "How do you get him to obey so well?"

"I have my ways," the woman responded calmly, crossing her arms over her chest. "What are you doing here, Cole?" The question was asked in the same calm voice, yet there was underlying tension there, and Cole sighed mentally at the look of distrust he saw in the brown eyes.

"You look good, Piper," he said, ignoring her question.

"So do you… for a dead man," she parried, watching him intently. "How did that happen, by the way?"

Cole sighed. "Yes, well, that's kind of a long story. I just—"

"You just don't ever die, that's the problem," a new voice cut in, and Cole narrowed his eyes at the newcomer. Ronia, picking up on his tension, moved closer to her father, eyeing the red-headed Charmed One with open hostility.

"Hello Paige," he said, trying to keep his voice neutral. "Nice to see you, too."

The youngest Charmed One shrugged, managing to put all of her contempt into that one little gesture. "I'm just saying," she purred, joining her sister by the door, "that no matter how many times you _supposedly_ died, you always managed to come back. The last time we thought for sure you were a goner, and yet … here you are."

"Paige!" Piper admonished, throwing an uncomfortable side glance at Cole.

"What?" the redhead shrugged again. "I'm only saying it like it is."

"_Just like the good old days," _Cole thought bitterly, squinting at the younger sister. With each passing moment he felt himself growing weaker and more lightheaded, the throbbing pain in his arm becoming almost unbearable. A few more minutes and he may no longer be able to keep himself upright. He needed to hurry.

"Listen, Paige," he began, but she cut him off.

"No, you listen. You have no idea what it was like for Phoebe after the last time you died. She was devastated. She didn't leave her room for weeks. Hell, we were all upset over what had happened, but she was…," Paige stopped, making a vague gesture with her hand. "Point is," she continued, "she finally managed to move on, to find a decent guy and to begin to forget about you, and here you are barging into our lives again. We can't have that!" Piper's hand laid gently on Paige's shoulder, and the latter stopped, glowering at the ex-demon.

Cole ground his teeth loudly, barely controlling his rising anger. _"You need their help,"_ he reminded himself.

"Look, I'm awfully sorry you were all so _upset_ about my last vanquish," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I wasn't too thrilled about it myself, you know – the whole painful dying thing and all." His knees began to buckle, and Cole grabbed hold of the doorpost to steady himself. "Here's the thing," he continued, using all of his remaining energy to keep darkness at bay, "I couldn't care less about you or Phoebe or her love life. I wouldn't even be here today if I had any other options, which, to my great regret, I do not." He paused, taking a jagged breath. "All I need is for you to call for Leo," he ground out, looking at them expectantly.

Suspicion and distrust reflected in their eyes, and Cole's heart sank in despair.

"And just why would we do that?" Paige's voice sounded so far away, almost as if she were standing in another room.

There was a movement at his side, and Cole forced himself to focus. Ronia, who was observing the scene before her with an ever-growing frustration, suddenly stepped forward, placing herself between him and the Charmed Ones. She stood there, eyes blazing, hands closed in tight fists.

"You two must be the world's biggest bitches," she yelled, barely controlling her anger. "How dare you talk to my father like that! I could just—"

"Roni," Cole called out weakly, but, before he could stop her, a loud explosion rang through the house and a small table in the sitting room broke into pieces. Ronia jumped, surprised by her own display of power, while the sisters, having surveyed the damage, stood back, posed for attack.

"Get your demon kid out of here, Cole, before I blow _her_ to pieces," Piper warned, raising her hands menacingly.

"No… don't… she's a witch…," Cole breathed out, trying to maneuver himself to stand in front of the girl. But his legs failed him, and his knees slammed painfully into the floor even as he raised his hand pleadingly in the sisters' direction. "She's a witch." His world dipped once more, and he was dimly aware of someone's hands easing him to the ground. Ronia's large tear-filled eyes came into his view and he gasped urgently, desperately, before darkness completely overtook him, "Get… them… to call… Leo…".

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TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N **Okay, so it has reee-hee-ealy been a long time since I updated. I had a bit of a writer's block that I couldn't quite work out, because real life kept getting in the way :-)

Anyway, I finally put some thoughts together, and, hopefully, you'll enjoy the result. The Charmed Ones will get a slightly better treatment this time (though I'm still a bit ambivalent about Phoebe's role in the rest of the story; we'll see how it goes).

Big THANK YOU to all of you who kept reading! And, please, don't forget to review (pretty please?) :-)

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**Chapter 7**

Piper frowned, watching the girl, as the latter frantically tried to revive the fallen ex-demon, alternating between shaking him roughly by the shoulders and pleading with him tearfully to wake up. She was suddenly overcome by an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. She had observed an almost identical scene some twelve years ago, except it was her younger sister who was trying her desperate best to revive the same lifeless demon. Shaking off the memory, she quickly crossed the few feet that separated her from the pair and crouched down next to them, placing a restraining hand on the girl's shoulder.

"You know," she said soothingly, "if you shake him any harder, you might make worse whatever is wrong with him." She paused, taken aback by the intensity of worry in the tear-filled brown eyes that met her questioning stare. "What _**is**_ wrong with him?"

Wordlessly the teenager reached down and pulled aside the coat that was covering her father's right shoulder, and Piper shook her head in astonishment as she looked down at the blood-soaked shirt. "What happened?"

"Please, help him," the girl's whispered, ignoring her question. "Please…."

Nodding absently, Piper turned to her younger sister. "Paige, could you--," but before she could finish her sentence, she felt a small hand grip her arm, jerking her back.

"No," the girl shook her head vehemently, keeping a tight hold on the witch's arm. "Not her. Leo. Call for Leo."

"But Paige is –"

"Oh, come on! It's not like I was chomping at the bit to heal this demon," Paige huffed indignantly, her arms crossed defiantly over her chest.

"Fine," Piper sighed with resignation, as she lifted her eyes skyward. "Leo! Leo!!! Leeeeoooooooooooo!!!!!"

After a few seconds of tense expectation the familiar blue lights announced the Whitelighter's arrival, and Piper heard the girl at her side breathe a sigh of relief.

"Uncle Leo!" Ronia squealed, as she sprinted over to the newly materialized Whitelighter and, before he had a chance to recover from shock upon seeing her in the Charmed mansion, she grabbed him forcefully by the hand, dragging him toward the unconscious demon. "You've gotta heal him, Uncle Leo! Hurry, please!"

"Uncle?" Piper repeated quietly, throwing a puzzled look at her younger sister. The latter merely shrugged in response, shaking her head in bewilderment.

"What happened here, Ronia?" Leo breathed out finally, as he dropped to his knees next to Cole's motionless body, his eyes widening upon seeing the bloodied shirt. "H-how did…? "

"We were attacked," the teenager supplied, looking pleadingly at the Whitelighter. "Please," she urged.

"Right," Leo nodded absently, placing his hands over the wound.

"I got my powers today," Ronia whispered with a sob, as she watched him work on her father's shoulder.

Leo glanced askance at her tear-streaked face, his frown deepening. "A demon attack then?"

She nodded, wiping angrily at her tears. "Dad said that it was going to happen. He wanted us to leave the apartment right away… but… it was too late."

"But why didn't he heal himself?" Leo bit his lip in confusion. "What's wrong with his powers?"

His question was left without a response, however, as a new voice cut into their conversation. "So, **Uncle Leo**, would you care to explain to us what is going on here?"

The Whitelighter winced at his wife's harsh tone and turned, finding Piper standing with her arms crossed, looming threateningly over him. Pushing down an uncomfortable lump in his throat, Leo stood as well, looking somewhat fearfully at his fuming spouse. "Look, Piper," he began awkwardly, "I realize that you must be pretty upset…"

"Upset?" Piper huffed, causing Leo to trail off, abandoning his feeble attempt at pacification. "Why should I be upset? Because for the past 12 years you've neglected to tell us that Cole was alive? Because you've seen how upset we all were, and you chose not to say anything to us? Because he has a daughter who calls you "uncle" and, yet again, you failed to let us know anything about it?" She paused to take a breath; her eyes glowing in anger, hands balled into tight fists; looking for all the world as if she were about to ram one of those fists into her husband's face.

"In all fairness to Mister Diplomacy here, it really wasn't his decision not to tell you." Cole's hoarse whisper deflected the Charmed One's attention, and Leo sighed gratefully, his shoulders sagging in relief.

"Whose decision was it then?" Piper asked in a much more subdued manner, as she watched Cole struggle to his feet, aided by the overjoyed teenager who kept a protective hand on her father's arm even as it became obvious that he could stand on his own.

Cole met her gaze calmly, confidently, and the blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he replied: "Mine."

She could have argued; she could have asked "why," but she didn't really need to – she knew his reasons. She could see it in his eyes; hell, if she were completely honest with herself, she could even see his point, given the welcome he received today from her and Paige. Still… "Things have changed, Cole," she stated quietly, searching his eyes for understanding. She heard the front door open and saw him look past her at whoever entered. "Things have changed," she repeated stubbornly, even as she saw him flinch visibly, his eyes fixed on the newcomer. Finally he looked back at Piper and shook his head slightly, "Not for me." He turned and walked out into the living room; his daughter close at his heels.

Piper sighed, looking at his retreating back. And behind her by the front door stood Phoebe, frozen in place by the unexpected sight, tears brimming in her dark chocolate eyes.

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TBC


	8. Chapter 8

This chapter gets into a bit of an explanation of what (and who) was behind the last attack on Ronia.

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**Chapter 8**

"So let me get this straight: the Elders wanted to find someone to be the guardian of this **supposed** future sorceress, and all they came up with was **you**?" Paige's index finger shot forward like a knife, pointing disdainfully at the middle of Cole's chest.

The latter sighed in exasperation. Fielding questions from Paige and Piper for the past five minutes wasn't exactly his idea of fun; not to mention the fact that he was more than a little unnerved by the scrutiny of Phoebe's silent, intense stare. "First of, she's not **supposed** anything. Ronia **is** the future Great Sorceress, also known as the future of good magic." He stole a quick glance at his daughter to see her beaming with pride at his words. Allowing himself a small smile, he went on, "Secondly, it wasn't the Elders who picked Ronia's Guardian, it was the Fates – you know, the thread-weaving all-powerful ones. And thirdly--"

"And thirdly," Leo interrupted, having finally stopped pacing nervously at the back of the room, "the reason that Cole was picked for this job because he's the only one who is capable of wielding the kind of power needed to protect the Sorceress." He swallowed, avoiding Piper's intense glare, and added in a much quieter voice, "Besides, the Fates decided it was only fair, given that he was responsible for saving her lineage to begin with."

Shocked silence descended on the room, with Cole staring at his unexpected defender as if the Whitelighter had suddenly grown a pair of horns, and the Charmed sisters looking at each other in confusion, trying to understand the implication of what was said. There was definitely something familiar about this girl at Cole's side; something about the way she clung to his side in a manner that sought to both receive his protection and to defend him from the rest of the world; something about those large dark-brown eyes… those eyes…

"Hannah…," a soft gasp snapped Cole out of his stunned stupor, and he turned, daring for the first time to meet Phoebe's look. To his surprise he saw no hostility there. Only curiosity and… sadness? He frowned, puzzled by that revelation, but he didn't really have time to ponder its significance. "She's Hannah's child… isn't she?" the middle sister asked timidly.

"Grandchild," Cole gave her a small encouraging smile. "She's too young to be her daughter."

"Well, if she really is the granddaughter of that girl we saved," Paige chimed in, "then I really don't see why we were not chosen to be her guardians. I mean, we did the saving part, too. Plus, if she's supposed to be the future of good magic, shouldn't it make sense to let her be raised by the most powerful source of good magic – i.e., **us**," she gestured theatrically at her sisters, "rather than giving her to the former Source of All Evil? I mean, I could only imagine what kinds of things he's been pumping into her head all these years. I--" She didn't get to finish her thought as she suddenly found herself flat on her rear, her hands clutching her bruised midsection. And she looked up to see the teenager standing above her, face contorted with anger, her fist pulled back, ready for another punch.

"How dare you talk like that about my dad?" Ronia hissed, ignoring the stinging pain in her wrist. "You don't know him. You don't know anything about him. You're nothing but a bitch who thinks she's all that. You're—" Suddenly there were somebody's arms around her, and she felt herself being pulled back. She struggled, trying to wriggle herself out of the tight embrace, but her father's voice stopped her:

"You don't have control of your powers yet, honey. Until you do, it's not a good idea to let your emotions run away with you." Cole loosened his grip, and the girl spun around to face him. "You wouldn't want to be responsible for accidentally blowing up a Charmed One now, would you?"

"Well…," Ronia trailed off, pretending to think over the idea.

"It was a rhetorical question, Roni."

"Right, I know. But still…"

Cole smiled despite himself and leaned in closer to his daughter: "I think we better let this one go, kiddo," he half-whispered. "They are already nervous. And when you put three nervous witches together, god knows what can happen."

The ex-demon looked over to the Charmed Ones, watching as Piper helped Paige up off the floor. "You were asking for it, you know" he told the visibly upset youngest sister. "It's never a good idea to insult someone's parents in front of them."

"From what I understand, you're not really her parent," Paige spit out, glowering at them. "You conveniently let her real parents get slaughtered by other demons, so you could take over."

"Now see, that's exactly what I've just been talking about," Cole responded, trying to sound nonchalant, while his hands curled into tight fists at his sides. "You really ought to work on your manners if you don't wish to get sucker-punched every time you open your mouth." The poorly veiled threat in his voice left nothing to imagination, and Paige thought it best to keep her next response to herself.

"I have a suggestion," Leo cut in once again, walking up to place himself between Cole and the youngest Charmed One. "How about we stop bickering for a minute and let Cole explain what is going on?" He looked questioningly at the sisters and was gratified to see his wife nod in acceptance.

"Looks like you're getting at least some of your balls back," the ex-demon remarked, a bitter grin twisting his features. The Whitelighter whipped around, his eyes flashing angrily, but the anger vanished, shattered against the grave intensity of the deep blue eyes that met his.

"Why are you here, Cole?"

"I couldn't protect her," the ex-demon breathed out, lowering his gaze to the floor. "I couldn't get a hold of you. This was the only place I could think of where she'd be safe," he paused, gritting his teeth in frustration, as he threw a quick glance in the sisters' direction. "At least I hoped that they," he nodded at the Charmed Ones, "would remember their calling and think twice before killing an innocent child."

Piper was about to say something, but Leo held up his hand, silencing her, his eyes still riveted to the demon's face. "What happened to your powers? Why weren't you able to heal?"

Something elusive flashed across Cole's face. "I'm not a hundred percent sure about this," he began hesitantly, his hand reaching into his coat pocket, "but I think they used the Exstinctor on me." He pulled out the knife and handed to the Whitelighter, watching him carefully.

His mouth hanging open in shock, Leo stared at the bloodied object in his hand, taking in the small green spot that still covered its tip. "That's not possible," he whispered, horrified.

The Guardian hummed vaguely, shaking his head. "That thing wiped out my powers in a matter of seconds," he said, pointing at the knife. "And I am only now starting to get some of it back." He flexed his right hand, conjuring a small fireball. As if to support his words, the ball hovered above his palm for less than a second and disappeared, eliciting a soft curse from the ex-demon. "There's only thing that I know of that can have such an effect on powers."

Leo kept staring at the knife with such apprehension, as if he expected it to turn into three-headed dragon right before his eyes. "But the Underworld could never create it on their own," he objected, turning to the Guardian with an almost desperate look in his eyes. "And the Elders would never—"

"Wouldn't they?" Cole cut him off sharply, meeting his stare with a hard one of his own. "Do you honestly think that it was just an _unfortunate_ coincidence that you suddenly became unreachable at the exact moment that we were attacked? The Sorceress's Guardian is rendered useless, and her Whitelighter is incommunicado. It's a little too convenient, don't you think?"

Leo screwed up his face, looking for all the world as if he had just swallowed an especially sour lemon. "They convened a meeting…. I was told it was urgent…" he mumbled in disbelief.

"Yes," Cole acknowledged bitterly, "I bet they had a similar 'meeting' the night Ronia's parents were killed." He waved his hand impatiently. "Come on, Leo, you cannot possibly be that naïve!"

"Would one of you, please, tell us what is going on?" Piper exclaimed, throwing up her hands in frustration. "What is this Exstinctor-thingy that Cole is talking about? And what is it exactly that the Elders wouldn't do?"

Leo threw a quick glance at Cole, but the ex-demon waved him on, mockingly giving him the go- ahead.

"There's this very old story," Leo began with a sigh, "that talks an experimental potion that was allegedly so powerful that a small amount of it was enough to strip any magical being of its powers for a fairly significant period of time. Because it turned out to be so powerful and had a foreseeable potential for abuse of powers, the formula for its creation was heavily encrypted and split between the Underworld and the Upperworld so that no being from either side could single-handedly create the Exstinctor. _And _since the Good and Evil aren't exactly much for cooperation, nobody has heard of or seen this potion in centuries."

"Until now," Cole muttered under his breath, earning a look of reproach from the Whitelighter.

"I see," Piper nodded. "And you think that whoever attacked you used that potion to wipe out your powers?" she asked, turning to Cole. The latter nodded in affirmation. "And that would mean that—"

"…That those bastard Elders got in bed with some demon to take me out of the game, so they could get to the Sorceress," Cole interrupted heatedly.

"Well, I suppose it makes sense that the Underworld would be after the 'future of all good magic', as you put it," the oldest Charmed One conceded, ignoring the furious undertones in the ex-demon's voice. "but why would the Elders want to harm the Sorceress?"

Instead of replying, Cole put his arm tight around his daughter's shoulders, pulling her into a protective hug. When he spoke next, his voice was hoarse but also strangely calm: "If they can get to the Sorceress before she gets full control of her powers, they can potentially draw those powers out of her… kind of like what the Wizard was trying to do with me when I was becoming the Source. And, since she is supposed to be one of the most powerful magical being in history, I would say that the incentive is definitely there."

Silence once again descended on the room, as the Charmed Ones mulled over this new information. Cole waited with feigned patience, his arm still wrapped protectively around Ronia. _He knew what he needed to do to protect his daughter; he just hoped that the Charmed Ones' cooperation would let him do it._

_

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_TBC

Please hit that review button :-)


	9. Chapter 9

Merry Christmas everyone! I didn't have much time to write lately, so I apologize for the delay. Here's a short chapter; hope you enjoy it. As always, feedback is always welcomed and much appreciated :-).

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**Chapter 9**

"**That's** your plan? To go on a fact-finding mission to the Underworld?!" Leo shook his head, incredulous.

"Yeah, Cole," Paige piped in, "how are you planning on getting those (she made a quote-unquote sign with her fingers) 'facts'? Are you just gonna walk up to every demon down there and say, 'Excuse me, you wouldn't happen to be the one trying to kill me with a green liquidy thingy, would you?'"

"Why, dear Paige," the ex-demon replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "you don't really think that a sneaky rotten demon like me wouldn't have his own sources in the Underworld, do you?"

"It's a stupid plan, Cole, and you know it," it was Piper's turn to interfere.

"Well, I don't see you putting forth a better one," he snapped, suddenly angry.

"Just think about this," Leo tried again. "You're going to be going down there nearly powerless. What if you run into the very demon who's behind this?"

As Leo spoke, Cole glanced sideways at his daughter and cursed silently, noticing the sudden pallor of her face. _"Damn you, Leo. She doesn't need to be thinking about that stuff."_ Trying to keep his outward cool, he spoke as convincingly as he could, "First of all, I won't be nearly as powerless as you think. Most of my powers are back, so I should be able to defend myself if need be." It was only a half-truth, but it was said mostly for Ronia's benefit, and Cole was relieved to see her features relax somewhat upon hearing it. "And secondly, if I do happen to run across the bastard responsible for the latest attack, I will make damn sure that he joins the Zotar he sent after us."

He raised his hand slightly, stopping any further objections. "Look, my mind's made up. I'm not gonna sit around waiting for another attack to disable my powers. I have to find out who made this potion and get rid of it… for good." He met Piper's gaze. "I gotta protect my child. I'm sure you, at least, can appreciate that."

"I can," the oldest Charmed One nodded solemnly. "And I have risked my life plenty of times for the sake of my boys. But I had my sisters with me every step of the way. And I knew that I could count on them should something happen to me." She took a small step toward the ex-demon and added, without breaking eye contact, "Have you thought about what would happen to your daughter if you get hurt or worse, killed?"

Cole could feel Ronia tense at his side once again, but he responded calmly without missing a beat, "That's why I brought her here… to you."

"**This… this **is why we're here? **This **was your plan all along?" Ronia stood before him now, eyes blazing in anger and something else that Cole was loath to acknowledge – fear. "To drop me off with these overgrown babysitters, while you go off on a suicide mission?" Her voice caught slightly at the end, making the ex-demon's heart lurch painfully in his chest.

Cole hated what this was doing to her, and he couldn't even begin to imagine what would become of her if he were to fail. But the alternative was inaction; a helpless, blind waiting of a prey before slaughter, and he could not, **would not** accept it.

And so he pulled her toward him, hugging her fiercely with the desperation of a man condemned, and whispered with as much confidence as he could muster, "I will do my damndest best to come back to you, you know that, don't you?" He felt her nod into his chest, sniffling as she did so. He pushed her back slightly and cupped her tear-stained face with his hand, forcing her to look at him. "I love you, robber's daughter." And with a quick kiss on her forehead, he was gone.

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TBC

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	10. Chapter 10

**A/N** Here's the next installment. I thought it was about time to give the title character a bit more of a focus :-). (note: Thoughts are in italics).

**

* * *

Chapter 10**

Ronia stood silent in the middle of the living room, staring unblinking at the spot from which her father disappeared moments ago. She didn't think she could get any more scared than she was back at their apartment with a demon's athame raised above her… until now. But what made the situation even worse was that she now felt hopelessly and terrifyingly alone. She had a very strong urge to cry, and if it weren't for the three Charmed sisters whose eyes she felt boring a hole in her back, she would have already given in to her overwhelming desire to run the hell out of that dreadful, suffocating house, flop face down onto the soft grass outside and weep until long after she ran out of tears.

_But she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing her fall apart like that. No. She'll be strong. For dad. For herself…. Herself… Oh, god… What if "herself" would be all she'll have left from now on?_

She felt a hand on her shoulder and forced down her panic. _She had to stay calm. She had to…._

"He's going to be okay." Uncle Leo was standing over her, giving her a smile of reassurance. _But she could see doubt in his eyes._ _She was no fool. _

"Of course he is," she found her voice to be surprisingly calm. "After all, it's only a **suicide mission**. No biggie." She whipped around, no longer able to control her feelings, and dashed out onto the porch before any of them could see the tears that rolled freely down her cheeks.

***

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, hands wrapped tightly around her trembling knees, face pressed against her legs, letting her tears soak the faded fabric of her favorite jeans. She felt so helpless. All those powers she was supposedly going to get, and all she could do was sit here and feel sorry for herself, while her father was out there somewhere, probably getting himself killed on her behalf. _Why? Why was this happening? Why couldn't she do something… anything to help him? Why couldn't she have stopped him from going? Why -?_

The sound of the front door opening interrupted her thoughts, and she stiffened, listening to the approaching footsteps. Whoever it was stopped right beside her and waited silently, obviously expecting her to look up. But, stubbornly, she only buried her face deeper into her knees, willing for the intruder to disappear.

"My mom wanted to know if you would like something to eat."

_It was that kid who opened the door to them earlier today. What was his name? Chris? Well, no matter. The last thing she wanted to do right now was stuff her face with food. She couldn't even think about food._ She frowned in frustration, hearing her stomach growl in objection. _"Traitor."_

"Go away," she muttered, without looking up. She waited, trying to listen for the sound of his retreating footsteps, but it never came. Instead she felt a shift in the air beside her and, as she ventured a peek, she saw to her great frustration that the kid had the audacity to sit down next to her.

"I thought you might like some company," he shrugged, smiling almost apologetically.

Ronia snorted angrily. "I wonder what part of 'go away' made you think that."

The boy smiled again. _He had a really nice smile_, she thought fleetingly, surprising herself. _His eyes kind of lit up whenever he smiled, making the green stand out. She liked green eyes… his eyes._

She realized with a start that he was talking to her, and she gave herself a mental shake, shoving those thoughts aside. _"Stupid, stupid, stupid," _she silently berated herself, hoping this boy didn't have the ability to read minds. The very idea made her blush with embarrassment, and she once again hid her face in her lap.

"Look… uhm… I'm sorry about earlier… how I acted," Chris began once more, mistaking her sudden move for a desire to shut him out. "I was kind of a jerk toward you and your dad. Uhm… I'm not usually like this… this rude, I mean. It's just the way your dad was asking questions, and the way you both looked, and…," he chuckled, cutting himself short. "…And I'm starting to ramble. Feel free to say 'shut up, Chris,' any time."

Ronia raised her head then, smiling despite herself. "Shut up, Chris." _There's that smile again._

"Thank you," he gave a mock sigh of relief. Then his face grew serious. "Are you gonna be okay?"

Ronia's smile disappeared, replaced with a worried frown. "Not till I know that my dad's alright."

"For what it's worth, knowing what your dad is capable of, I think he's got a pretty good chance." Chris shrugged again. "I mean, the guy actually **ruled** the Underworld at some point."

Ronia shook her head, uncertain. "Maybe you're right."

"Of course I am."

His confidence was contagious, but her worry remained, nagging, twisting somewhere deep in her gut. _What if-_

"Come on!" Chris stood abruptly. "My mom is the best chef on this side of the Atlantic. It'd be a real shame for you to miss out on her cooking."

Ronia squinted, glancing up at the young Halliwell. "A chef, huh?" Her stomach growled again, and she chuckled in embarrassment.

"You know," Chris winked, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "I heard that her Chicken Alfredo actually turned a demon to the side of good."

"Well, I can't possibly say no to that kind of an endorsement," she laughed then, accepting his hand, as he pulled her to her feet. Her worries momentarily forgotten, she let him lead her back into the house.

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**TBC**

Be nice. Please review :-)


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 10**

A short, pudgy demon with greenish-blue skin and a fat warty nose that drew attention away from his beady cockeyed eyes stood in the farthest corner of a small dark cave, bent over a table strewn with various bottles, vials, pieces of metal and broken glass. Every few seconds he stuck his knobby fingers in the middle of that mess, pulling out a vial. He inspected each one carefully, his lazy eye darting back and forth between the object in hand and the table. Seconds later the object was inevitably discarded, thrown angrily to the floor already littered with pieces of rejected bottles. He was so intent on his task that he did not notice that he was being watched.

"I like what you've done with the place," a voice from the entryway startled the demon, making him drop another vial. The glass shattered, eliciting a string of dark curses from the bluish occupant of the cave and a tight smile from the intruder.

"Belthazor," the demon hissed, baring a row of sharp yellow teeth. "What brings **you** here? Last I heard you were busy babysitting a witch."

Cole chuckled angrily, as he carefully maneuvered amidst the shard-covered floor toward the demon. "Oh, Cockeye, you should know better than to trust everything you hear."

"My name is Serpius," the demon growled, advancing menacingly in Cole's direction. "I've told you before, don't … call … me … **Cockeye**!"

"Touchy as always, I see," Cole put up his hands in mock surrender. "I **would** say 'some things never change', but then I find you here, surrounded with potion vials. Tell me, since when is a lowly Source's spy like yourself interested in an apothecary's job?"

The demon slid forward in a swift fluid motion, stopping only inches away from Cole's face. "I was the best spy the Source ever had," he hissed, thrusting his knobby finger into the other's chest. "And you oughta know, you've used my services plenty of time."

Unperturbed, Cole nodded slightly in acknowledgement, a lopsided grin crossing his features. "You were, in fact, quite helpful, as I remember. That was, actually, why I came looking for you. But," he gestured to the room, "it seems that you have recently changed professions." The blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Tell me, what kinds of potions have your warty hands been into lately?"

Serpius faltered suddenly, the lazy eye darting nervously from side to side. "Why do you wanna know?"

"Well, I know it's strange," Cole took a menacing step forward, forcing the other to draw back involuntarily, "but when my daughter and I get nearly killed thanks to some power-robbing concoction, I like to know who's responsible, so I can personally tear that bastard's head off of his useless body." The smile crossed his lips again, cold, threatening. " I came to you, looking for information, and I'm starting to think that you've given me more than I'd hoped for." He kept on advancing as he spoke, broken glass crunching under his feet. "Tell me, Cockeye," Cole leaned forward just enough to make the latter squirm uncomfortably, "you wouldn't happen to have a few vials with green liquid lying around here somewhere, would you?"

The threat in his voice was unmistakable, and Serpius shivered inwardly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he began, watching in dismay as the former Source of All Evil formed a blazing fireball and began bouncing it impatiently on the palm of his hand. "I … I really … I don't"

"Cut the bull, Cockeye," the Guardian barked. "I don't for one minute believe that you had nothing to do with it. Even if you didn't create the potion, you know who did. A nosy bastard like you would never miss something this big."

Cole leaned in closer, the fireball in his hand glowing brighter still, itching to break free. He was so focused on the demon before him and the anger that coursed through him at the very idea that this here was the creep responsible for nearly destroying what he held most dear, that he forgot the cardinal rule of the Underworld – never leave your back exposed.

He realized his mistake when Serpius's demeanor changed suddenly, his attention shifted momentarily to a spot just above Cole's head. Cole reacted swiftly, whirling on his heels, arm raised to release the burning sphere. But he wasn't quick enough. And before he even had a chance to see who was behind him, something hard and heavy connected sharply with the right side of his face. The ex-demon dropped lifeless to the shard-covered floor, the fireball dissolving harmlessly in the damp air of the cave.

"What the hell took you so long?" the blue-tinted demon asked, once he got his frightened breathing under control.

The white-clad newcomer shrugged indeterminately, carelessly tossing aside the no longer needed rock. "I came as fast as I could, Serpius. You forget that I am not at your beck and call here; I do have other things on my plate, you know." He looked with obvious disgust at the prone form at his feet. "What is the Guardian doing here? Kronos assured me that you would have him taken care of."

"And I will," Serpius nodded, baring his yellowish teeth in a predatory smile. "You, Elders, are too impatient sometimes. Did you bring what I asked?"

"Here," the Elder frowned in resentment, handing the demon a small vial filled with thick clear liquid. "Would you mind telling me what you're planning to do with him now that he's here?" He once again pointed to the motionless figure on the floor.

"I am going to play me a little game."

"You mean you're going to torture him," the Elder made a wry mouth, wincing squeamishly.

The cockeyed demon snickered at his reaction and waved his sharp-clawed hands in front of the Elder's face. "You and your white-cloaked buddy don't wanna get your pretty white hands dirty, so old Serpius has to. But I'm not complaining. No, no…." He snarled, taking the vial to the table in the corner. "In fact, it will be my pleasure."

The Elder fidgeted nervously, shifting from foot to foot, watching Serpius with a wary eye. "Very well," he said finally, "I'm going to head back. Don't get too carried away with your games, will you. Make sure you get him to tell you where he's hiding the Sorceress, while he can still talk."

Serpius was busy searching for something amid the clutter on his table, not even bothering to look up as the Elder disappeared in a swirl of white lights. Then finally he grunted triumphantly, as he pulled out a syringe filled with green powder. "There!" Carefully, he uncorked the vial, given to him by the Elder," and added two drops of the liquid to the green contents of the syringe. He watched with a mixture of fascination and amusement, as the contents turned into a thick glowing green liquid. "Don't you worry, Phernicus," he mumbled, as if his white-cloaked associate was still in the cave with him, "I'll get him to tell me **everything** we need to know."

He knelt beside the unconscious ex-demon and smiled, plunging the long needle deep into the left side of the Guardian's back. And as the green liquid slowly disappeared inside the prone figure, he added darkly, "Welcome to the last days of your life, Belthazor. Welcome to hell."

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TBC

Okay, you knew this was coming, right? :-)


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

The first sensation that greeted him upon his return to consciousness was nausea – a sick, oppressive feeling that grew stronger with each passing second, taking over his entire body, making his head swim and his insides churn violently in response to every strangled breath. The darkness that surrounded him made him feel disoriented, and he panicked momentarily, until his brain caught up with him and he realized that his eyes still remained closed. Cole fought to open them then, finding it a surprisingly difficult task to accomplish. He finally succeeded in opening his left eye, but something warm and sticky has glued together the eyelids of his right eye, and try as he might he could not pry it open. He reached up with his hand to remove the obstruction, his body strongly protesting the motion, and frowned in confusion as his shaking fingers came away stained with blood. "When did that happen?" he mumbled groggily and shook his head, trying to dispel the cobwebs. He realized his mistake, when his world spun around like a runaway carousel. The nausea grew almost exponentially, and he fell back with a groan, cursing his weakness.

"This thing packs quite a punch, wouldn't you say?" a familiar voice sounded to his left, and Cole squinted in its direction, waiting for his vision to come into focus.

"I mean, I knew that this was some pretty powerful stuff, but watching you flop around like a half-dead fish makes me respect it even more." Serpius smiled cruelly, waiting for some kind of a reaction from his prisoner. When none came, he clicked his tongue in disappointment and leaned over the ex-demon, studying him intently. "Hmm, maybe Phernicus hit you harder than I thought." He frowned at the glazed look in the other man's eyes. "Do you even know who I am? 'Cause, you know, if you don't…" Serpius pulled a hurt face, "…well, it just won't be as much fun." Seconds later a fist connected solidly, though weakly, with his chin, and the demon barked a satisfied laugh. "So you do know who I am. Good. Although I gotta tell you, for a Guardian, or whatever the hell you're called now, this was a pretty pathetic display of force. But, wait, I forgot, you're not a Guardian anymore." He bent down further and his grin became even more predatory. "Now you're nothing more than a weak, pathetic mortal."

"Go …t… to … h-hell," Cole breathed out, clamping down on the suffocating nausea.

Instead of a response, the demon grabbed him roughly by the front of his shirt and slammed him forcefully against the cave wall.

The impact forced the air out of Cole's lungs, making him gasp for breath. He felt clawed fingers wrap around his throat, and he vaguely heard some muffled threats that Serpius whispered in his ear. But he was beyond caring. His world exploded in a garbled mess of flashes and streaks. The nausea had finally won, and he emptied whatever was left in his stomach right in his captor's face.

The demon swore, hurling him across the cave like a ragdoll. Cole crashed sideways into the unforgiving rocky surface, barely aware of the sharp cracking sound, as the bones in his right arm snapped from the impact. But even as the blackness hovered at the edges of his vision, he smiled in satisfaction, for the last image that he saw was that of Serpius stomping about in helpless rage and wiping his face in disgust.

***

"So what's it like?"

Ronia looked up from her plate, frowning at Chris who sat across from her at the table, watching her eat. "What's what like?" she repeated, remembering too late her father's admonition against talking with one's mouth full. She covered her mouth in embarrassment, as she felt a piece of linguini try to make a run for it.

"Being the Super Witch, you know, the Big Bad for the Underworld…" Chris trailed off, as he noticed his mother's disapproving frown.

Ronia shrugged. "I don't know," she answered honestly. "I don't even know what my powers are, let alone how to control them. And if my dad fails…," her breath hitched, and she looked hurriedly back down onto her plate. "…If he fails, I will most likely not live long enough to find out anyway."

The adults at the table glanced at each other, a look of concern shared between them. Then Piper broke the uncomfortable silence, shifting fully into mother mode. "You really shouldn't think like that, Sweetie," she admonished, ignoring the flicker of annoyance that flashed across the girl's face upon hearing that epithet. "You know that your dad will do everything he can to keep you safe, and," she paused for emphasis, "even if he does fail, which I'm not saying he will, but even if he does, we will still be here to protect you."

"You?" Ronia's brow flew up, underlining the deep suspicion and disbelief that laced her voice. "You have tried to kill my father more times than I can count, and you want me to believe that you will protect me – the 'demon kid' as you called me?" She stood abruptly, letting the chair fall to the floor behind her. _She'd had enough of this hypocrisy._ "One thing I know for sure is that if Uncle Leo weren't here, you would've thrown me out so fast, it would've made my head spin. So don't give me this self-righteous crap!"

"Ronia, --" Leo tried to intervene, fighting to break the awkwardness of the situation.

But she ignored him, already storming out of the kitchen and into the hallway. _She was no fool; she knew that after that little speech of hers nobody in that house would want her to stay. But she didn't care. It needed to be said. Those self-righteous witches sit there high up on their pedestals, thinking they know everything about everyone. Well, they don't!_

"Ronia!" a voice stopped her, as she was about to dart for the door.

She turned, her hand hovering above the door knob, and looked apprehensively at the middle sister. "What do you want?"

Phoebe stopped a few inches away, her expression uncertain. "Why do you insist on running away?" she asked quietly, searching the girl's face for answers. "You are not among enemies here. Your dad knew that, or he wouldn't have brought you to us." She paused, looking at her intently. "Would he?

Ronia shook her head reluctantly. "No, he would not," she admitted. "But he had no other choice. He said so himself." _There! She wasn't gonna make this easy on any of them._

Phoebe sighed, a flash of pain reflecting in her soft brown eyes, and for the first time Ronia felt a twinge of sympathy for the Halliwell witch. The realization surprised her – Phoebe was the one she planned to hate more than the other two; she was the one who broke her dad's heart, who killed the love they had between them. But the pain she saw in that reflected in that woman's eyes seemed genuine. _Maybe that love of hers was not as dead as she would have it appear?_

"I don't think I will ever be able to forgive myself for what we've… what I've done to Cole," Phoebe's voice dropped to barely a whisper, as she spoke again. "All those years I kept thinking… 'if only there was a way for me to undo at least some of the pain that I've caused'. And there wasn't." She raised her head, looking straight at Ronia. "And there isn't… But … with you here… I thought… maybe this could be my chance to make at least something right. Please," she held out her hand, her eyes pleading silently with her young companion, "stay."

Ronia hesitated momentarily, feeling both surprised and moved by the intensity of emotion she sensed coming in waves from the other woman. Finally, she nodded again and took the proffered hand.

A fraction of a second later a wave of electric shock ripped them, images of Cole's bruised and battered body burning in their minds, and they cried out, breaking their connection. Phoebe staggered backward, hand flying to her mouth in horror. Seeing the same horrified expression on the girl's face, she tried to reassure her, but her throat was too constricted in fear and she found herself unable to force out the words. And it is doubtful that Ronia would have heard her anyway. She stood frozen in shock, blood ringing in her ears. _Her worst fear was coming true; her dad was--_ The chilling thought brought her up short, breaking her trance, and she shook her head wildly, refusing to accept it. _She was damned if she was going to allow it to happen. She lost her parents once already, and that was more than enough._ "I have to get to him," she whispered to no one in particular. And before Phoebe's shocked eyes, the future Great Sorceress disappeared into thin air.

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**TBC**

Now hit that little "review" button. Please??? :)**  
**


	13. Chapter 13

A/N Wow, it's been a while... Too many things going on, not enough time :) Thank you, everyone, for your reviews. I do so appreciate them! Keep those coming :)

Hope you enjoy this chapter!

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**Chapter 13**

"You know," Paige shook her head disapprovingly, breaking the uncomfortable silence that once again settled over the dinner table, "I get that Cole is not her biological father, but from everything I've seen, he's rubbed off on her pretty well. The way she acts around us, it's like we're dealing with the Source's spawn."

"She's just worried about her dad, Aunt Paige," Chris objected, his voice low, eyes fixed worriedly on the hallway that his new friend disappeared to.

"Oh, I think it's much more than that, Chris. Did you see the way she talks to us? The way she acts? She nearly blew us up, for God's sake!"

"Can you really blame her?" Leo cut in tersely, only to have Paige whirl toward him, a look of righteous indignation on her face. "She's reacting, Paige," he continued, ignoring the daggers that the Charmed One was shooting at him. "Reacting to the way you're treating the person who is the only family she's got." The witch was about to object, but he waved her off impatiently. "He **is**, Paige. Whether you like it or not, Cole's been this little girl's family her whole life. The sleepless nights, the dirty diapers, the first steps, the bumps and bruises – the works. He loves this girl more than anything in the world. Believe me, I've seen it. And the feeling is completely mutual. She's as protective of him, as he is of her, and she saw you threaten him, when he was weak and vulnerable. Did you really expect her to react differently?"

Leo stood up, leveling the youngest sister with a hard stare, before turning his gaze to Piper. "You were mad at me for not telling you that Cole was alive. For a long time I've debated doing that despite Cole's objections. I wanted to tell you at one point. I kept thinking:you were so remorseful after he died; you'd be happy to know that his fate was changed. But something kept holding me back." He shook his head in disappointment and continued quietly. "I can see now that I was right to be concerned. You can't even see past your hatred of Cole to help an innocent girl, whose only crime, _in your eyes_, is that she happens to love him."

His reprimand finished, he lingered before the two sisters, as if waiting for some kind of a response. Then resolutely he turned away and headed for the door. A fraction of a second later he heard Phoebe's scream.

* * *

This was Ronia's first independent teleportation, and the dizziness of the experience took her by surprise. She grunted, as she landed rather ungracefully on her unsuspecting behind and wondered momentarily what her dad would think of such a miserable first attempt. But the mere thought of her father brought her up short, and she bolted to her feet, frantically inspecting her surroundings. The cold semi-darkness of the room – so foreign, so forbidding – made her shiver, and her need to find her father became even more desperate. She spotted him, finally, lying in a broken heap by the far wall, and she rushed over, skidding to her knees before him.

"Dad, daddy," she whispered urgently, reaching for him. But her hand shook, frozen just above the ghastly palette of raw, bloodied skin and ugly purple bruises that was his back. _How could somebody do this? Why?_ Her lips quivered and, overwhelmed by the sudden need to reassure herself that he was still alive, she grabbed his right shoulder and shook it, perhaps a bit too forcefully, eliciting a moan of pain from the prone figure.

"Oh, thank God," Ronia breathed out, her relief so powerful that it drowned out the stab of remorse she felt at causing him pain. As gently as she possibly could, she maneuvered her father onto his side and into her lap and waited tensely, as he fought his battle for consciousness. Finally, his eyes fluttered open, the bleary pain-filled blues connecting with her worried brown ones. She saw recognition in the blue depths and drew back almost involuntarily as his face turned into a mask of panic.

Her confusion was lost on Cole, though, who awoke to what he thought was his worst nightmare come to life – his baby girl captured by the very creatures he was trying so hard to protect her from. "Ar...are you r-real?" he gasped, dimly aware of just how ridiculous his question must have sounded, but part of him hoped against hope that what he saw was nothing more than a figment of his feverish, drug-induced imagination.

His daughter smiled sheepishly through unshed tears and pinched his arm, mindful of his injuries. "Feel that?" she queried instead of a response.

But Cole didn't smile in return despite (or, perhaps, because of) the childlike levity of her gesture. His little straw of hope broken, he felt himself falling into a vortex of despair. "You c-can't be here," he breathed, almost too quietly for her to hear.

But she did hear it, and she bristled at the notion. "Hi, Roni; so glad to see you, Roni; thanks for rescuing me, Roni," she quipped, her tone bordering on insolence.

Her righteous indignation, however, crashed against Cole's own growing anger. He pushed himself up on his elbow, ignoring the angry spots that danced across his vision from that simple movement. The torrent of agony that ripped through his arm and ribcage overwhelmed his senses and threatened to pull him back into the blessed nothingness of unconsciousness. But the ex-demon gritted his teeth, stubbornly riding out the nauseating deluge of pain.

"The wh-h-hole … whole reason for m-me being d-down here," he ground out, when he was finally able to talk again, "was s-so ... you would stay as f-far aw-way from all th-this as possible. Not run around playing a … h-h… hero…"

Ronia bit her lip and looked away sharply, a hurtful expression marring her delicate features. Her father sighed, relenting, his anger deflated. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel as awful as he did. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he continued as gently as he could, given his burning ribs. "I **am** glad … t-to see you, and I **do** thank you … for … for coming to my rescue, but … it is my job to keep you safe. … I can't let anything … happen to you. I couldn't bear it if…," he cut himself short, unable to voice his worst fear.

The girl turned back toward him, her lower lip trembling. "Did you ever consider," she whispered, blinking away the tears, "that I might feel the same way about you?"

The sheer depth of raw, unashamed emotion in her voice rolled over him like a tidal wave, and Cole found himself suddenly unable to speak past a lump in his throat. Instead he shifted and held out his good arm toward her in an inviting gesture, and Ronia responded immediately, enveloping him in a desperate hug that had him seeing stars. He ignored the pain. His body may have felt as if it were on fire, but his heart was engulfed with warmth that made everything else fall away. At least temporarily.

"Wh-why … don't … we… get … out of … h-here?" he gasped out finally, planting a gentle kiss on top of the girl's head.

But as an echo of his ever-present fear, a familiar gruff voice came from the doorway: "Oh, I don't think that's going to happen."

* * *

TBC

Please review :-)


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

"What do you mean **'gone'**?" Leo snapped loud enough to cause the already shaken Charmed One to shrink back.

"I … I don't know," Phoebe stammered. "One minute she was standing right next to me and the next she just… flashed out."

"Flashed out? She's never—… What did you say to her? Why didn't you stop her?"

"Leo," the middle sister whispered brokenly, interrupting his barrage of questions, "I think something terrible has happened to Cole."

The Whitelighter suddenly felt as if the temperature in the room dipped a few degrees. "Premonition?" he asked quietly.

Phoebe nodded, and Leo swallowed hard at the haunted look in her eyes. If something happened to Cole then Ronia's safety would be severely compromised. And then another terrible thought occurred to him, and Phoebe's next words confirmed his fear: "I think Ronia saw it, too."

"She went to him," the Whitelighter nodded numbly, "and if Evil gets hold of her powers before she is in full control," he ran his hand across his eyes in a feeble attempt at chasing away the unpleasant thought, "there won't be anything we'd be able to do to stop them."

"We will fight them," Paige cut in with forced confidence.

"And we will fail," the dark assurance in Leo's voice made them shiver and a crushing, oppressive silence descended upon the room.

The three witches looked somberly at one another, as if searching for some reassurance but finding none.

"Do you think you might be able to sense her?" Piper asked timidly, breaking the overbearing quiet.

But her husband merely shook his head. "There's too much interference in the Underworld..." he spread out his hands in a gesture of helplessness. "I won't be able to-" he cut himself off suddenly and roared in pain, his hands clamping down on his ears with so much force that it left them shaking with the effort.

Piper was at his side in an instant, taking his suddenly ashen face into her palms. "Leo, honey, what is it? What's wrong?"

"Roni," he hissed, when he was finally able to catch his breath, face still pinched with pain. "S-something happened. … An explosion of power…" Shakily he wiped the sweat off his forehead, meeting his wife's concerned gaze. "She's calling for me. I can't believe that she's able to do that from down there, but she is…. Something's happened," he repeated unnecessarily, wincing once again, as Ronia's scream exploded inside his mind with the force of a mild nuclear explosion. "I have to go."

He was gone in a flurry of blue and white orbs before Piper had a chance to react.

* * *

Air… sights… sounds… All absent. Cole seemed to be drowning in a bottomless, suffocating sea of pitch black silence. _Where? Why?_ He wheezed, panicked, trying to get at least some relief, and screamed in mute agony as his lungs burned in protest. He hurt. God, but he hurt. The slightest movement sent white hot daggers burrowing into every inch of his body. But he needed to move. There was something ... something important... something he needed to do. Frantically, he pushed against the thick cobwebs that have shrouded his ringing head.

And then it all came back to him in a ruthless collage: Serpius – a bone-chilling, predatory smile distorting his wart-nosed face… His little girl – thrashing about, slowly suffocated in a violent grip of invisible power… Himself – hurled savagely against the wall, his head slamming against the hard surface with a dull crack… A nauseating sensation of stifling death…

"Roni," his hoarse whisper ended in a bout of suffocating cough that sprayed the ground before him red with blood. He ignored it, forcing his eyes to focus. But as he finally succeeded, he almost wished he hadn't, for what he saw made his heart drop: Ronia hung pressed against the wall in a spread-eagle position, her delicate hands and feet caught in a vice-like grip of crude metal shackles. _Dear God, no!_

Serpius stood before her, grinning venomously. "I gotta say," he drawled, triumphant, "things have turned out quite a lot better than I expected. I've been trying to get your Guardian here to tell me where you were, but he's just too stubborn for his own good. Doesn't know when to quit." The knobby finger scraped gently down the side of the girl's face, making her flinch. The demon smiled at that, baring a row of small razor-sharp teeth. "I was almost ready to give up… and here you are. Right where I want you."

Still ignoring Cole, who was struggling to stay upright on his knees, Serpius dug his hand into the folds of his robe, pulling out an athame. "Funny thing about these powers you're supposed to inherit: once you're in control of them, you become practically invincible. However... if someone were to... kill you before that happens, that someone would inherit it all himself." He tossed the weapon playfully in his hand. "I think I'm supposed to share the wealth with a couple of very annoying Elders, but… let's face it, I'm just a tad too greedy for that. So, why shouldn't I get all the fun?"

Ronia closed her eyes in horror, as the athame began to swing down toward her. _This was it… the end._ Breathlessly, she waited for the impact. But the blade never reached her. Instead, she felt a sudden shift in the air before her. Bewildered, she opened her eyes, and her bewilderment turned to shock. A fraction of a second later she screamed.

Cole saw the blade move toward his daughter as if in slow motion. He was too weak… helpless, worthless. But he'd be damned if he didn't fight for her, while there was still life left in him. Gritting his teeth hard against the pain, he gathered whatever strength he had left and sprang forward, tackling the green-skinned monster to the ground.

The two slammed to the floor, and Cole felt his breath whoosh out of him like air out of a punctured balloon. His vision swam, grip loosening. He didn't have much time left, he knew. So he clenched his fists around the demon's arms, using the last vestiges of strength to keep him pinned down. It didn't last. And as he felt Serpius' blade bury itself deep into his side with a brutal powerful jerk, tears of despair rolled down his cheeks. He failed his little girl… _failed_. His daughter's desperate scream of "Daddy-y-y!" was the last thing he heard.

Serpius climbed out from underneath the ex-demon, growling in frustration. "Son of a bitch!" Bending down, he pulled out the athame none too gently, wiping it angrily on the side of his robe, and, unable to stop himself, kicked the prone figure before him. "You just had to mess this up for me, didn't you?" he screamed at him, as if somehow expecting a response. "Well, your dumb move doesn't change anything." Raising the blade again, he stepped deliberately over to his teenage prisoner. "I'll still-"

He was interrupted by a shower of white orbs that trickled down into the middle of the damp cave.

"What in hell happened here?" the newcomer inquired, surveying his surroundings.

Serpius cursed loudly. "Perfect timing as always, Phernicus. What are you doing here anyway?"

The Elder's eyes narrowed. "I am here to check on your progress with the Guardian, but I see you have made quite a leap since the last time we spoke." Phernicus took a step forward toward the chained girl. His eyes skitted almost indifferently over the ex-demon's body as he carefully stepped around it. "You weren't by any chance trying to take all her powers for yourself now, were you?" he asked his associate, cocking his head slightly as he examined the shivering figure before him. "Very rude of you, Serpius. Very rude," he tsked mockingly. "You could have at least let the poor girl say her goodbyes. Belthazor was, after all, somewhat of a father to her." The white-robed visitor waved his hand and, to Serpius' dismay, let the restraints fall away.

The future Great Sorceress dropped to the floor and immediately scrambled over to where her father lay, ignoring her two would-be killers. She felt their stares on her back, but she didn't care. Shaking with fear, she reached for her dad, jostling him gingerly at first and then, getting no response, with more and more force and desperation. "Dad… daddy… please, wake up, please…"

"Look," Serpius hissed through clenched teeth, watching the scene before him with ever-growing disgust, "what if I did try to kill her before you got here? So what? It's not important now. But since **you**'re here now, why don't we finish what I've started?"

If that conversation reached Ronia's consciousness, she didn't show it. Her sole focus at that moment was her father and her own blood-soaked hands that she had pressed against the jagged wound in his side in a vain attempt to stop the flow. And as she stared at the rivulets of her father's blood slip between her fingers, she felt something begin to rise within her, growing, expanding, filling every inch of her being, itching to break free.

A scream tore from her throat at the sudden surge of power within her, fueled by despair and grief, and suddenly a giant wave of blinding white light burst forth from somewhere deep inside her, engulfing the entire cave in its burning wake.

When the light dissipated, the cave was empty, save for the trembling teenager, who was still bent over the motionless bloodied form of her father.

* * *

TBC

Okay, a bit of a cliffie here (bwahaha :-)) Let me know what you think. Hit that little "review" button.


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